Grrrr Writing Fight Scenes Is So Frustrating Especially When Physical Contact Isn't Allowed.

grrrr writing fight scenes is so frustrating especially when physical contact isn't allowed.

Native English speakers are the world’s worst communicators

In a room full of non-native speakers, ‘there isn’t any chance of understanding’. It might be their language, but the message is often lost

“A lot of native speakers are happy that English has become the world’s global language. They feel they don’t have to spend time learning another language,” says Chong.

“But… often you have a boardroom full of people from different countries communicating in English and all understanding each other and then suddenly the American or Brit walks into the room and nobody can understand them.”

The non-native speakers, it turns out, speak more purposefully and carefully, typical of someone speaking a second or third language. Anglophones, on the other hand, often talk too fast for others to follow, and use jokes, slang and references specific to their own culture, says Chong. In emails, they use baffling abbreviations such as ‘OOO’, instead of simply saying that they will be out of the office.

“The native English speaker… is the only one who might not feel the need to accommodate or adapt to the others,” she adds.

Abraxas Malfoy: Don’t you find it exhausting constantly being right?

Tom Riddle: It’s the only thing holding me together at this point.

Harry and the Dursleys

Another eyes as green as a fresh pickled toad

Rubeus Hagrid meets Tom Riddle (Excerpt, Chapter 29)

Both Tom and Merrythought turned around to see the victim; but they need not have worried.

He laughed good-naturedly as the spell bounced off of him ― the boy had to be pushing eight feet tall. But he wasn't tall in the weedy, gawky way either (although, being thirteen, he was obviously awkward-looking). He was solid and wide and his hands were enormous.

"Miss Nott!" snapped Merrythought. "I told you categorically that no duelling spells were to be used! Twenty points from Slytherin!"

The girl who had cast the spell ― Nott's sister ― simply pouted, and then gave Tom a long, sideways look from under her eyelashes. He ignored her, and went over to the strangely unperturbed victim of the Knockback Jinx.

"I'm Tom Riddle," he said, offering his hand to the boy. "Slytherin House, fifth-year."

He grinned, and shook Tom's hand heartily. "Rubeus Hagrid," he offered. "Nice ter meet yeh, Tom."

He would see about that.

"Take Hagrid to the Hospital Wing, Riddle," ordered Merrythought.

Tom didn't see anything wrong with Rubeus, but he obeyed. It was on his way to Dumbledore's office, anyway.

"Come on," he said. "Let's go."

As soon as they were out in the corridor, Tom, not one to mince words when the opportunity arose or deny his curiosity, asked: "Are you a half-giant, Rubeus? The way that spell bounced off you..."

Rubeus shrugged, and made a funny sort of nod; half-proud, half-embarrassed.

"Why did that girl jinx you?" asked Tom, wondering if it was anything he could use against Nott.

Rubeus shrugged once more.

"Yeh know," he said. "Most of th' students don' like my kind. 'Specially in Slytherin."

"Half-bloods?"

"Half-breeds. 'Course, not everybody figures it out as quick as yeh. Professor Dumbledore did, o' course. "

"Oh." Tom had heard that word being thrown around the common room, but he generally didn't pay much attention to name-calling unless it applied to him. So that was why Merrythought had been so desperate to get Hagrid out of her class; she probably wanted him out of Hogwarts, too.

"Are yeh Muggle-born?" Rubeus went on, in that same good-natured way that reminded Tom of Algie Longbottom, his now fellow prefect and the apple of Merrythought's eye.

He'll probably get the job after she retires, thought Tom.

It was Tom's turn to shrug. He could have explained, but he didn't feel like going into all that David Copperfield nonsense.

So this is Dumbledore's other charity case, is it?

They both fell silent for a while.

"Well, here's the Hospital Wing," said Tom, gesturing at the door. "Take care."

Rubeus flashed him a toothy grin, and hurried inside.

"What an imbecile," Tom muttered under his breath, then with a dramatic swish of his robes, turned away and went towards the next corridor.

In his not-at-all-humble opinion, he was the much superior of Dumbledore's charity cases.